Black hair

Glassy beads slipped down my cup recklessly; the condensation flimsly falling onto the vinyl table top. He sat across from me, mummering the events of the day in a voice of boredom. My plate of food was cold and my fork laid unused next to it. The black and white tiles of the floor were hypnotizing and numbing to the mind. Across from me he ate indignatnly and unaware; until, the glass door shook with a rapt from the outside. Our eyes met, his drilling inot mine with confusion expecting an…

Marie de Médicis Asylum. Her mind wobbled unsteady in her convulsing body, her vision became blurred, everything went black. It was simply another 6:30 p.m. With the sun’s rise screams pierced the air, jolting Lucille from her medicated coma like slumber. She looked about the whitewashed prison and grimaced. the only colour that mimicked any of her existence was the faded black Sharpie stain, bold and verboden on the south wall, as she faced west. Another scream pierced the air, and Lucille…

December 2nd, 2014; In the large room decorated in shades of pink and splashes of a pastel blue stood a girl. Her long ivory hair that went down to her hips swayed back and forth as she giddily walked around her room. Goosebumps danced upon her Pale skin as she peeked back down to her phone. Her lavender eyes sparkled as she gazed at the image of a boy with long black hair and dark blue eyes. She fell back into her bed, her smile Widening as she sighed. “Lucy! Dinner is ready!” An older,…

Birdie kicked at a stray rock with all her might, snarling with clenched teeth. It flew across the street, and disappeared into the passing crowd. Birdie sighed and ran a hand through her hair, her stomach folding in on itself. “I want to go home,” she moaned quietly, and Albert nudged her with a grin. “You want to go back to Kansas? Lame, Bernie.” Birdie rolled her eyes at the nickname, but smiled at Albert anyway. They started walking down the street, dragging their shoes across the…

nails. “Which one?” She followed his gaze. “The one with the black hair.” “Uh oh, no, Magnus don’t even think about it. That’s Alec Lightwood. He’s one of the most popular kids in our school, right after his adopted brother Jace Herondale. He’s straight.” Camille warned him. “No he’s not. Look at how he stares at Jace. Now compare…

pavement; pain coursed up my leg. I remember jumping up and running down the street I eventually ran into a boy about my age who offered to walk me home. He was tantalizing in a sort of eerie way. Jet black hair fell over his stern ice blue eyes. He was wearing black jeans with a white shirt and a black zip up jacket. When we got to my home, he asked if I wanted to hang out at school tomorrow, then I finally remembered who the boy was and why he looked familiar. It was the boy who sat behind me…

and the leaves bid farewell to its mother. The sun parted way with the sky early today, leaving only gloomy clouds greeting the city. I sit behind a group of young ladies schmoozing the day away. With their high heel boots, leather jackets, curled hair, and that latte cup they got at the cafe behind them, I instantly thought of typical white girls. These typical white girls are all over the mall, splurging their week’s worth of work, and do it again next week. They are very Fashionista, with…

blonde annoying brats came stomping on my lawn. My long black hair runs in the family from birth, so I can’t really control all of that nonsense. And lastly, I honestly don’t know why these children are facing charges against me when I was only simply trying to help them. Now I was minding my own business, cleaning up all my candy decorations. Then all of the sudden I heard a chomping noise. I looked to my left and right there, on my brand new black licorice panel window was Hansel and Gretel,…

in the bar enjoying their time when a ragged man with jet black hair that flowed down to shoulders and a beard that was as thick as a mop came through the door. The usual customers…

see a difference between the Sharks and the Jets. Not only did they dress differently, there was a stereotype used in differentiating each side. The Sharks were all represented as brown-skinned Puerto Ricans with jet black hair, while the Jets were all fair-skinned with overly blonde hair. However, not every Shark was an actual Puerto Rican. Bernardo and María, George Chakiris and Natalie Wood, had been…